


The Stand

by warmheartseek



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Club Owner Oswald, Day 7: Free Prompt, Forensics Edward, Loosely Based on a Mother Mother Song, M/M, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Nygmobblepot Week 2019, Porn with some plot, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 01:51:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmheartseek/pseuds/warmheartseek
Summary: And so completes Nygmobs Week 2019! I am so happy I could participate this year and it made my heart so happy for all the lovely comments left on the stories I posted and even more excited to finish a few multi-chapter that have sprouted from this week!the song is The Stand by Mother Mother and it's more inspired by the lyrics in the song than the actual song plot? (hence direct lyric references) idk but listen to mother mother they are BANGER my nygmobs playlists are full of their songsthank you to everyone who has read along this week you are all so very precious to me, thank you so much <3





	The Stand

Ed stood under the building’s small canopy, letting the hum of a fluorescent umbrella in the window soothe his frazzled nerves. The structure was unassuming, no obvious name in the window or above the door. If not for soft music betraying life behind it’s unappealing exterior, Ed would have assumed the place was nearly abandoned, or likely some kind of front for shady business where he would not be welcomed. He was never one for clubs or night spots, leaving the comfort of his apartment was rare when everything he could need amounted to an old couch and his favorite video games. 

 

Ed found his hand on the doorknob, struggling to remember consciously placing it there. But he’d already found plenty of gaps in his memory that night, enough to last a lifetime, what was one more added to the pile? 

 

He remembered sitting outside Kristen’s building, but not the drive there. Stopping Officer Dougherty before he’d gone inside, but not why the man was clutching Ed’s shoulder with a confused expression. Standing in front of this building, his lungs burning and feet tired. 

 

But not why there was blood on his coat.

 

Ed looked down at the crimson smears, not out of place for this side of town, maybe an issue if anyone looked too closely.  

 

He would just have to make sure nobody got too close. 

 

Ed shook his head to clear the muddled mess of thoughts, realign them or even focus on one simple task and have it stick. The only thing he felt was a pull in multiple directions, one to retrace his steps and find out where he’d been, another begging Ed to follow curiosity behind the door. His hands and feet stayed put. A building pressure throbbed behind his eyes, compelling Ed to search for a simple, logical next step. 

 

Exhaustion. He’d clearly walked a long way and was dehydrated. Yes, he just needed to rest and then he could find his car, hopefully find out where he’d come from. 

 

So it would be door number one tonight. 

 

The door opened to a small hallway, the same soft fluorescent glow from outside led his path to a typical bar, with tables and a stage farther back. The people inside were few and far between, all of them huddled in booths or speaking closely to be heard over the band’s noise. All they seemed to make was noise for Edward’s taste. 

 

The same umbrella in the window decorated a large panel behind Ed, casting a glow in the dimmed nightclub. The owner must have had a careful eye for design, classy and simple enough to give the entire place an air of Victorian charm. Ed kept himself along the shadowed walls, watching while patrons moved about, laughing and drinking too much. 

 

Not that cover was necessary, he could yell ‘ _ fire!’  _ from center stage and nobody would mind him. 

 

“Hello there.” 

 

The voice sounded too close to Ed’s ear. 

 

Ed was sure he jumped fifteen feet straight up, startled by the proximity. He turned quickly to see another man standing behind him, shorter than Ed with sharp features and wild hair that fanned out like bird’s feathers on his forehead. 

 

Ed noted how this man’s feet pointed out at an angle, something like penguin’s feet, and the thought made him smile. When he looked back up the man had an eyebrow quirked, neck slightly craned in anticipation before Ed remembered he’d been addressed. 

 

“ **_HELLO_ ** ,” he recoiled at the volume of his voice, “my apologies. Hello.” 

 

A small voice in the back of Ed’s mind chastised him for repeating the word so many times. 

 

The stranger’s smile was genuine, his shoulders seemed to relax when Ed finally gathered himself up enough to respond. 

 

“I hope the music isn’t too loud.” 

 

“Nothing of the sort. I’m sorry, I don’t make a habit of frequenting this type of establishment.” 

 

Ed tried his best to mimic the inviting smile. Something told him it didn’t meet his eyes the right way. 

 

The stranger’s face dropped, “And is there a problem with this type of  _ establishment _ .” 

 

Ed’s eyes went wide. Away from home for a handful of hours and already he was perfecting the gentle art of making enemies. The stranger’s careful attention was unabashed. Ed wasn’t used to close scrutiny, he was suited for blending in the background, keeping his head down and trying to get through work without a broken nose. 

 

“Is that blood on your coat?” 

 

His tone was more matter of fact than seemed appropriate.

 

Ed pressed closer to the wall and his distance was simply matched. 

 

“I--Yes, I think it is.”

 

His laugh was something different than mockery, Ed let himself believe it was amusement. 

 

“You don’t know if  _ your  _ coat has blood on it,” his head cocked, “I assure you, there’s no need to play coy. That kind of thing isn’t so rare in this ‘type of establishment.’” 

 

He was joking  _ with  _ Ed, and not just at his expense. 

 

“If I’m being honest sir, I’m not sure about a lot of things tonight.” 

 

He waved a hand in the air and stuck it out to Ed.

 

“Please, call me Oswald. Oswald Cobblepot, I own this club.” 

 

The name rang a bell in the back of Ed’s mind, something he’d read in a handful of files at the GCPD. Sometimes it paid to be invisible with a curiosity like Edward’s. 

 

“Oswald, I’ve read your file. It’s quite a pleasure to meet the man behind the manila folder.” 

 

Ed kicked himself for sounding like some kind of fanatic. Oswald looked flattered, his smile dropped to something more sly and conspiratory, his hand lingered longer in Ed’s than what seemed necessary. Then again, Ed was no authority on proper boundaries. 

 

“The pleasure’s all mine, Mr.---”

 

“Nygma. Edward Nygma, I work forensics at the GCPD and I have to say your cases are always the most fun to take on.” 

 

_ ‘Easy, tiger,’  _ echoed in the back of Ed’s mind. 

 

“Well, Edward I’m sure I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Oswald finally released his hand with a wink, “Tell me, what’s your weakness?” 

 

“My--what?”

 

“Your weakness; do you prefer libations, cigarettes, or something more,” Oswald looked him up and down, “corporeal.” 

 

Ed was relieved for such a dark cover of dim lighting, he knew his cheeks must be ablaze in red. 

 

“I’m not really one for such things,” he managed to spit out. 

 

“Oh come on, just one vice?” 

 

Ed rubbed at the back of his neck, taking a seat opposite Oswald and adjusting his glasses more for the stimulation of his shaking hands rather than the functionality. 

 

“Okay, it’s vodka on ice.” 

 

Oswald leaned in closer, his breath tickled Ed’s neck.

 

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to repeat that.” 

 

Ed shivered under his large coat. Oswald was closer than anyone had dared to get and it was of his own free will and not just because of some random happenstance. He moved to speak near Oswald’s ear, mindful that his lips didn’t make contact, surely he’d leave with a black eye if he let impulse have its way. 

 

“Vodka, on ice.”    
  


Ed hoped the words came out more confident than they felt. 

 

Oswald leaned back with a smile and gave their order to the bartender. He simply stared at Ed, eyes roaming without shame. Ed felt his cheeks heat up again, the club owner was so bold and unabashed, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to run and hide or soak up the attention like a desperate houseplant in need of sunlight. 

 

“Tell me your fears.” 

 

Oswald leaned on his hand, as if he’d simply asked how the weather was outside. 

 

Ed played with the rim of his glass, afraid to meet Oswald’s imploring gaze. His gaze volleyed between each of the patrons, all of them looking carefree and entirely unbothered by anything their meaningless lives might be lacking. Ed couldn’t say the same, he felt that void like a toothache, dull and consistent. He was missing so many things, namely many hours of his memory that night. It wasn’t something Ed felt ready to admit especially to a near perfect stranger. But this wasn’t anything like the nights Ed was used to anyways. 

 

Ed thought for a moment, watching the ice in his glass shift. 

 

“Okay, it’s everyone here.”

 

Oswald looked confused.  

 

“You mean, just--all of the people?” 

 

Ed unfocused his eyes and let the image blur into the speckled pattern of black marble under his hands. 

 

“Yes, and all of their peers.”  

 

Oswald quirked his head, “You are a handful.”

 

His tone was almost fond, it sent another shiver up Ed’s spine, sent him shrinking further into the coat as if temperature was really to blame. 

 

“I can hardly stand the sight of it all. I don’t mean your club of course, the decor is enchanting. The people are--”

 

“Deplorable,” Oswald finished the thought with a wrinkled nose and another knowing smile. 

 

Ed returned the gesture and finished the drink he’d been nursing, feeling too rude to leave it alone. The burn at the back of his throat was welcomed. 

 

“You intrigue me, Edward. Let’s continue this chat in my office, we’ll be able to understand each other much better there.” 

 

Oswald offered his arm when they stood. 

 

_ A true gentleman, not many of those left in his line of work _ . 

 

Ed ignored the echo this time and chose to focus on being led past club goers, noticing their eyes follow him likely because he was on the arm of the club’s owner. The feeling prickled at the back of his neck, not entirely awful.  

 

Oswald’s office was just as grand in its design as the rest of the club, extending that same Victorian charm the man seemed to harbor in more than just aesthetics. He pulled two chairs to face each other, gesturing for Edward to sit. 

 

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” 

 

Ed sat and accepted the red wine he was handed. He swirled the glass, bringing it up to inhale the notes. They were deep, woodsy in a way that made Ed curious about the distilling process. 

 

“Tell me, Edward,” Oswald sat in the opposite chair, one leg crossed over the other, “what’s to blame for ruining your coat?” 

 

Ed gripped the stem of his glass, the true nature of Oswald’s business wasn’t exactly a secret so it wasn’t impossible to entertain trusting the man. If anything, Ed might be able to glean some advice about what to do next. 

 

Ed huffed, “I don’t mind saying, but I’m afraid I’ll sound like a liar or an Arkham alumni.” 

 

Oswald’s laugh shook his shoulders. He leaned forward and tipped his glass towards Ed.

 

“Then either way it will make for a fine story.” 

 

Ed let his fingers run up and down the fine stem of his glass, grateful for something to occupy his nervous fingers. 

 

“If I’m being quite honest, I have little memory of anything that happened tonight. There are bits and pieces of course, the drive to her house and seeing Officer Dougherty start walking up the stoop.” 

 

Oswald leaned back to rest his head on a curled hand, “So, you were headed to a woman’s home then?”   
  


He sounded less interested than before and Ed tried not to notice. 

 

“Yes, a coworker of mine,” Ed shifted in his seat, “it was nothing like that, she has a boyfriend--or had--I was simply going to check up on her. He wasn’t-- _ isn’t _ \--a good man.”  

 

“Well,  _ is _ he or  _ isn’t _ he?” 

 

“That’s the part I’m having trouble with, the last thing I remember is confronting Officer Dougherty and then finding myself in front of your club with blood on my coat and hours missing in my timeline,” Ed let the words rush off his tongue. 

 

Oswald swished swish that thought around with the sip of wine he’d taken. 

 

Ed looked down at his hands, perfectly clean without a speck of dirt under blunt nails. Whatever happened, he’d clearly done a fine job cleaning up, or  _ someone _ had. 

 

“I’m not blind, I know something happened tonight, something bad _.  _ I just don’t know what to do about it.”

 

Oswald leaned into an open palm, letting his cheek mold against it. It was an oddly endearing position for the severe mob boss; childlike, attentive, and for the first time that night Ed felt a small sense of glee swell just behind the heavy foreboding. 

 

“Would you like to hear what I think?” 

 

“Please, I would be grateful for some insight, especially from a man of your--talents.” 

 

Oswald gave an embarrassed smile that made the tips of Ed’s ears burn. He got up abruptly, splashing wine from his glass and onto the black carpet under his feet. Once again he gestured to Ed, this time imploring him to stand. Ed carefully set his glass to the side, warily standing in front of Oswald and only just noticing their substantial height difference. Edward decided for what Oswald lacked in stature, he more than made up for in charisma and personality. 

 

Ed looked around, brow furrowed, “Now what?”

 

Oswald clapped his hands together, startling Ed.

 

“Now, my friend, we take that soiled coat off of you and destroy it.” 

 

Ed’s mouth gaped, Oswald sounded so sure but Ed failed to see the importance. Why would he destroy a perfectly good coat, one that could be cleaned and reused? If there was one thing Ed could take away from his scientific rolodex it was how to remove blood stains from clothing. 

 

“Why would I want to do that?”

 

“You’re kidding? The forensic scientist is going to ask me why he should get rid of a bloody coat that  _ clearly  _ implicates him in some level of heinous crime?”

 

Oswald laughed, “I guess I was wrong to assume those glasses were more than just a compliment to your good looks.” 

 

Ed stammered, caught off guard by the seamless mixture of flattery and insult, “I--excuse me, but I know plenty well what danger there is in keeping the coat.” 

 

Oswald stepped closer, tipping his head up like a dare. Ed’s small rush of confidence waned. 

 

“Then, take it off.” He punched the end of each word in sharp emphasis. 

 

Ed’s cheeks burned with a mixture of alcohol and nerves. Oswald’s demanding tone and a strange electricity swirled between them. He ripped the coat from his shoulders, bundling it up and throwing it in the chair behind him. Oswald’s eyes narrowed in sneering jest. 

 

“See, now was that so hard?” 

 

Ed huffed an annoyed breath, taking another step towards Oswald to utilize the only advantage he had; height. He loomed over Oswald, somehow still eclipsed by the man’s defiant gaze and set jaw. Ed could see the muscles move under Oswald’s skin, working equally to achieve the brazen expression. Both men stood their ground, their combined refusal to relent was painfully obvious. Pot, meet kettle. 

 

The quirk of Oswald’s lips caught Ed by surprise. A small smile creeping at the corners of a thin mouth, what was once a harsh line now playful and amused. Oswald’s eyes flicked down but Ed kept his straight ahead, now faced with impossibly long lashes instead of the bright green he’d been staring into before. Oswald kept his eyes hooded as he spoke. 

 

“You know Edward, you’re the first man who’s ever dared to go  tête-à-tête with me like that,” he mused, “I’m impressed.” 

 

Ed felt a shiver down his spine when Oswald said his name, it felt like a secret only they shared, something altogether too intimate. 

 

Ed swallowed heavy, “I--did not know that. It doesn’t surprise me.”

 

Oswald finally looked up, a wolf sizing his meal. 

 

“Why’s that? Do you find me  _ intimidating _ , Edward?” 

 

There it was again. That tone. 

 

“You are,” Ed tried in vain to coat his dry mouth, “a rather imposing figure. Surely you know that.” 

 

“I do, but I’d rather hoped I made you feel more welcomed than that.” 

 

Ed felt the ghosting of fingertips trail up his arm, tracing lightly until they gripped his collar. He was mere inches from Oswald’s face now, everything in him screaming how ridiculous it was to be playing this game with a perfect stranger, and a dangerous one at that. 

 

But then again, they were hardly strangers now anyways. 

 

And Oswald was perfect. 

 

Ed chose his words carefully, treading lightly to avoid spoiling the cadence.

 

“I would say you’ve been a most gracious host.” 

 

Oswald’s smile spread from ear-to-ear, he allowed himself silent applause for finally saying the right thing.

 

Ed was pulled down by his tie.

 

“You don’t know the half of it.” 

 

The brewing storm came to a crescendo when Ed felt lips pressed against his own like lightning fanning across a vast ocean when it struck. The crackling energy between them sent a current through Ed’s chest, his heart hummed with it. Oswald’s kiss was passionate but gentle, not demanding the way his demeanor might suggest. Ed’s mind stood frozen in that remarkable moment before he felt Oswald pull away, fighting a whining noise at the back of his throat. Slender fingers that clutched his collar loosened to Ed’s dismay. 

 

Oswald’s eyes looked frantic, darting back and forth between Ed’s own as if he was searching for the answer to an unspoken question. Ed let his eyes slip closed again, closing the distance between them, barely grazing his lips over Oswald’s. It was an answer and an invitation rolled in one. 

 

Ed felt the small huff of relief against his lips, finally feeling the heat of Oswald’s mouth once again, this time with greater assurance that each of them understood the other. Ed let that repressed noise bubble up, letting himself revel in want. So many things had gone wrong for him that night and he may have been a sucker to believe in fate, but there was something profound about meeting Oswald when he had. 

 

Ed let his lips part, a whisper of promise that he was entirely enamored with Oswald, happy to let him take what he wanted. Oswald gently swiped his tongue across Ed’s bottom lip, encouraging the slack in his jaw so his tongue could move against Ed’s own, a mess of slick heat that made Ed’s knees weak. He let Oswald dominate the kiss, his hands hovering where he longed to touch, to feel the slight form beneath that bespoke suit.  

 

Oswald clasped his hands over Ed’s, prompting him to move closer and wrap his arms around Oswald’s waist. Ed absorbed every detail of that feeling, the slender body pressed against his own, the small notches of Oswald’s spine that he could trace through layers of fine silk. He trapped his fingers in the fabric of Oswald’s jacket, hoping desperate hands could do the work of his occupied mouth. 

 

Once again Oswald broke the embrace, pulling another pathetic whimper from Ed. 

 

“You said you weren’t sure of many things tonight, is this one of them?” 

 

Ed tried to pull Oswald closer, knowing there was no space between them to even close. 

 

“This is the only thing I am certain about tonight.” 

 

Oswald gave a coquettish smile as he wound a hand in Ed’s tie once more, pulling him forward to sit on the desk. Ed’s grip bit into the desk’s edge with nervous excitement while Oswald made careful work of his tie, slowly unraveling and using the motion to pull Ed into another searing kiss. 

 

Oswald’s hands trailed down Ed’s torso and eased his legs apart so he could stand comfortably between them. Feverish lips teased along Ed’s jaw, paying special attention to a spot behind his ear that made Ed keen. 

 

“Tell me what you want,” Oswald purred, his breath tickling Ed’s neck.

 

Ed’s mouth gaped, every word in all his wisdom seemed to fail at once. He pulled at Oswald’s coat, bunching the fabric in his hands. 

 

“You’ll have to use your words.” 

 

Ed whined, equal parts foggy in his arousal and frustrated that his greatest strength was useless when he needed it most. He gathered any inch of remaining dignity over the ruins of his courage. 

 

“I would like to feel your hands,” Ed managed, his voice embarrassingly small. 

 

Oswald dug his fingertips into Ed’s upper thigh to make a point.

 

His teeth dragged across Ed’s neck, “You have my hands, is there something else?” 

 

Ed muffled another whimper with his hand. 

 

“ _ Yes _ , I want--,” he steeled himself, “to feel your hands on me, anywhere, everywhere. Please, Oswald.” 

 

Oswald pulled back to look at Ed, suddenly faced with that tortuously attentive gaze. He scanned over Ed’s features, his own expression resembling awe. 

 

“I like the way you say my name.” 

 

He turned his attention to Ed’s shirt, undoing each button with such slow attention Ed was afraid Oswald would feel his heart flutter against his fingertips. A gentle kiss followed the trail of exposed skin. Ed thought he might pass out at the suggestion of Oswald’s movements, going lower, lower, lower. 

 

“Wait.”

 

He stopped so quickly Ed felt a pang of affection and guilt in making Oswald think anything was wrong, he simply didn’t want things to end too soon and Oswald was making it near impossible. 

 

“I want you to kiss me while we--” 

 

The blush over his neck stretched into Ed’s throat, choked the words out of his mouth. 

 

“While we-- _ what _ , Ed?” 

 

Oswald was smiling, thoroughly enjoying the torture playing out in front of him. 

 

Ed was getting frustrated with himself, with Oswald, with everything that kept those hands away from where he wanted them. Finally he gained a spark of courage and wrapped long legs around Oswald’s hips, pulling their clothed erections flush with each other. It was a different kind of satisfaction to feel how affected Oswald was, no more hiding behind a smug exterior. 

 

Oswald responded in turn by ripping the shirt away from Ed’s shoulders, challenging his next move. Ed dug his heels harder into Oswald’s back, stifling a groan in favor of appreciating the slight jaw drop he earned. 

 

“Good play. My turn.”

 

Oswald’s breathless words almost distracted Ed from the hand that dragged his zipper down painfully slow. Oswald’s hand was teasing, deliberate, he knew he was applying just enough pressure to drive Ed crazy and nothing more. He traced the band of Ed’s briefs, one part promise equal parts permission request. 

 

Ed pushed his knees out farther, desperate hands slipping on Oswald’s back. Finally he felt slender fingers around his painfully hard cock, crying out without reserve. Embarrassment flooded his stomach and he wanted so badly to disappear, pressed his forehead against Oswald’s shoulder to avoid his eyes. 

 

“Edward.” 

  
A gentle hand guided his chin upwards. 

 

“I want to see your face.” 

 

Oswald moved his hand with one long stroke. Ed let himself whimper a desperate noise, secure in the rapt attention written over every inch of Oswald’s expression. Oswald quickly set a steady pace, fingers working expertly around Ed; swiping, sliding, too decadent for words. 

 

Ed rocked himself up into Oswald’s hand, thoughts straying to how the warmth of his mouth might feel instead. A tight warmth in his stomach told Ed to slow himself, think of anything else that would draw out their time together. 

 

He stilled Oswald’s hand, slightly shaking his head when words wouldn’t come to him. 

 

Oswald understood immediately. He took time to kiss along Ed’s jaw, behind his ear, over the long stretch of his neck. Ed finally drew in a labored breath.

 

“I want to do something for you.” 

 

Oswald seemed to consider. 

 

“Alright, but don’t feel like you have to for this to continue.” 

 

His words were so comforting, showcasing every ounce of consideration he had for Ed’s feelings. Ed slipped to his knees from his spot on the desk, his own arousal spiking when he noticed how hard Oswald was through his pants. He pulled the zipper down slowly as payback for his own frustrations. Oswald’s hand moved into Ed’s hair, steadying and gentle, somehow the gesture felt more intimate than when Oswald had been palming him through his own trousers only moments before.  

 

“You are absolutely striking like this.” 

 

The praise rattled in Ed’s mind and echoed down his spine, absorbed into the fibers of his being. He preened shamelessly, wanting desperately to hear more.

 

Ed pressed his tongue flat against the head of Oswald’s cock through thin layers of his briefs, putting the mouthwatering groan he earned next to Oswald’s praise, sealed up tight where he’d never forget them. 

 

“ _ Fuck, _ Edward.” 

 

“Five cent word for a million dollar man.” 

 

“If you keep teasing instead of putting my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to punish you.” 

 

Ed’s jaw wrenched open. 

 

“How’s that for five cent words?” 

 

He wasted no more time in pulling away layers of fabric to take Oswald in his mouth, tongue lathing the underside of his cock in a shameless display. Ed moaned around the weight in his mouth when Oswald’s shoe pressed against his own arousal. He rocked into the feeling, grateful for the friction, every inch of skin ablaze in embarrassment and longing for more. 

 

Oswald was a rush of profanity, his grip tightening in Ed’s hair. 

 

“You are  _ incredible _ .” 

 

Ed groaned again, moving his hips quicker despite being unable to achieve the level of friction he wanted. Ed’s spit slicked mouth moved faster around Oswald, trying to pull more praise and heady sounds to prove he wasn’t the only one aching with need. 

 

Oswald’s grip in his hair pulled Ed away. Before he could protest the loss, Ed was shoved to the floor, Oswald quickly moving to straddle his hips, firm grip now capturing Ed’s wrists. 

 

His eyes were practically feral with desire, everything Ed had been looking for. 

 

“ _ Oswald _ .” 

 

Oswald took them both in one hand and Ed saw white spots in the corners of his vision when he felt the delicious drag of skin against skin. 

 

“Say my name again, just like that.”

 

“Please,  _ Oswald. _ ”

 

His hand finally began stroking them in unison, long, teasing drags that made Ed’s throat constrict. 

 

“Again.” 

 

“ _ Oswald, Oswald, Oswald,”  _ Ed chanted, stringing the syllables out in drawn succession.

Every panting mention of his name matched the pace of Oswald’s hand. The words smoldered on his tongue when Ed felt lips pressed against his own, wanting and searing. Ed’s mouth fell open, no longer able to contain his pitchy moans and sighs. Oswald nosed his cheek, whispering hardly intelligible praise against Ed’s skin. 

 

The hot coil in his stomach told Ed he didn’t have the luxury to hold on anymore, his warning was broken and breathy. 

 

“Oswald I’m--,”

 

“It’s alright, Ed. You’ve been so good for me, you’ve been so,  _ so _ good.” 

 

Ed arched into Oswald’s touch, letting the ecstatic waves of orgasm roll over him. With the few lucid thoughts he could manage Ed wrapped a hand around himself and Oswald, trying in vain to prove useful despite his exhaustion. 

 

Oswald’s hips stuttered with his inability to keep a steady pace. He came with Ed’s name on his lips, more controlled and civil than Ed had been. 

 

They laid panting in shared breath for too long with Oswald still hovering over Ed, careful not to make their mess any worse. Ed felt the swipe of fabric over his stomach, gently cleaning spilled release. He propped himself up to admire Oswald’s post-passion appearance. Black hair ruffled like feathers, his cheeks red and splotchy from trying to maintain a semblance of dignity. 

 

The thought crossed Ed’s mind that he’d like to see how undone Oswald could become. 

 

“Is that my jacket?”

  
  
Oswald smiled and pressed a kiss to Ed’s jaw. 

 

“The thing was ruined with blood anyways. I’ll buy you a new one and you can have it the next time I see you.” 

 

Ed’s blush must have been more evident than he thought. 

 

“There will be a next time, Ed.” 

 

It wasn’t a question or a demand, it was reassurance. It was paradise, spread out with a butter knife. 

 

A sharp finger pressed into Oswald’s chest.

 

“You said I was a handful.” 

 

“I like handfuls.” 

 

Comfortable silence fell between them, each studying the other for authenticity, easily finding what they needed. 

 

Ed helped Oswald to his feet, reluctant to let go entirely. Oswald’s careful hands buttoned Ed’s shirt and straightened his tie. 

 

“I suppose you should be going, I’m sure someone is missing you by now.”

 

Ed hated how sad he sounded. 

 

“Oh no, nobody would miss me,” he smiled. 

 

Oswald looked up, earnesty etched into his features. 

 

“I will.” 

 

Ed felt a knot at the back of his throat, he gathered Oswald’s slender frame in his arms and held tight, tucking his chin into the crook of his neck. Arms wrapped around him, pulling tighter, closer. 

 

Never close enough. 

 

Ed couldn’t find the strength to mind, it seemed he and Oswald would have plenty of time to try, that much was certain. 

**Author's Note:**

> And so completes Nygmobs Week 2019! I am so happy I could participate this year and it made my heart so happy for all the lovely comments left on the stories I posted and even more excited to finish a few multi-chapter that have sprouted from this week!
> 
> the song is The Stand by Mother Mother and it's more inspired by the lyrics in the song than the actual song plot? (hence direct lyric references) idk but listen to mother mother they are BANGER my nygmobs playlists are full of their songs 
> 
> thank you to everyone who has read along this week you are all so very precious to me, thank you so much <3


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